The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 389

So be the warrant instantly prepared.

[BURLEIGH withdraws; a tumult heard without.

SCENE VII.

The QUEEN, the EARL OF KENT.

ELIZABETH.

How now, my Lord of Kent? What uproar's this I hear without?

KENT.

My queen, it is thy people, Who, round the palace ranged, impatiently Demand to see their sovereign.

ELIZABETH.

What's their wish?

KENT.

A panic terror has already spread Through London, that thy life has been attempted; That murderers commissioned from the pope Beset thee; that the Catholics have sworn To rescue from her prison Mary Stuart, And to proclaim her queen. Thy loyal people Believe it, and are mad; her head alone Can quiet them; this day must be her last.

ELIZABETH.

How! Will they force me, then?

KENT.

They are resolved----

SCENE VIII.

Enter BURLEIGH and DAVISON, with a paper.

ELIZABETH.

Well, Davison?

DAVISON (approaches earnestly).

Your orders are obeyed, My queen----

ELIZABETH.

What orders, sir?

[As she is about to take the paper, she shudders, and starts back.

Oh, G.o.d!

BURLEIGH.

Obey Thy people's voice; it is the voice of G.o.d.

ELIZABETH (irresolute, as if in contest with herself) Oh, my good lord, who will a.s.sure me now That what I hear is my whole people's voice, The voice of all the world! Ah! much I fear, That, if I now should listen to the wish Of the wild mult.i.tude, a different voice Might soon be heard;--and that the very men, Who now by force oblige me to this step, May, when 'tis taken, heavily condemn me!

SCENE IX.

Enter the EARL OF SHREWSBURY (who enters with great emotion).

SHREWSBURY.

Hold fast, my queen, they wish to hurry thee;

[Seeing DAVISON with the paper.

Be firm--or is it then decided?--is it Indeed decided? I behold a paper Of ominous appearance in his hand; Let it not at this moment meet thy eyes, My queen!----

ELIZABETH.

Good Shrewsbury! I am constrained----

SHREWSBURY.

Who can constrain thee? Thou art Queen of England, Here must thy majesty a.s.sert its rights: Command those savage voices to be silent, Who take upon themselves to put constraint Upon thy royal will, to rule thy judgment.

Fear only, blind conjecture, moves thy people; Thou art thyself beside thyself; thy wrath Is grievously provoked: thou art but mortal, And canst not thus ascend the judgment seat.

BURLEIGH.

Judgment has long been past. It is not now The time to speak but execute the sentence.

KENT (who upon SHREWSBURY'S entry had retired, comes back).

The tumult gains apace; there are no means To moderate the people.

ELIZABETH (to SHREWSBURY).

See, my lord, How they press on.

SHREWSBURY.

I only ask a respite; A single word traced by thy hand decides The peace, the happiness of all thy life!

Thou hast for years considered, let not then A moment ruled by pa.s.sion hurry thee-- But a short respite--recollect thyself!

Wait for a moment of tranquillity.

BURLEIGH (violently).

Wait for it--pause--delay--till flames of fire Consume the realm; until the fifth attempt Of murder be successful! G.o.d, indeed, Hath thrice delivered thee; thy late escape Was marvellous, and to expect again A miracle would be to tempt thy G.o.d!

SHREWSBURY.

That G.o.d, whose potent hand hath thrice preserved thee, Who lent my aged feeble arm its strength To overcome the madman:--he deserves Thy confidence. I will not raise the voice Of justice now, for now is not the time; Thou canst not hear it in this storm of pa.s.sion.

Yet listen but to this! Thou tremblest now Before this living Mary--tremble rather Before the murdered, the beheaded Mary.

She will arise, and quit her grave, will range A fiend of discord, an avenging ghost, Around thy realm, and turn thy people's hearts From their allegiance. For as yet the Britons Hate her, because they fear her; but most surely Will they avenge her when she is no more.

They will no more behold the enemy Of their belief, they will but see in her The much-lamented issue of their kings A sacrifice to jealousy and hate.

Then quickly shalt thou see the sudden change When thou hast done the b.l.o.o.d.y deed; then go Through London, seek thy people, which till now Around thee swarmed delighted; thou shalt see Another England, and another people; For then no more the G.o.dlike dignity Of justice, which subdued thy subjects' hearts, Will beam around thee. Fear, the dread ally Of tyranny, will shuddering march before thee, And make a wilderness in every street-- The last, extremest crime thou hast committed.

What head is safe, if the anointed fall?

ELIZABETH.

Ah! Shrewsbury, you saved my life, you turned The murderous steel aside; why let you not The dagger take its course? then all these broils Would have been ended; then, released from doubt, And free from blame, I should be now at rest In my still, peaceful grave. In very sooth I'm weary of my life, and of my crown.

If Heaven decree that one of us two queens Must perish, to secure the other's life-- And sure it must be so--why should not I Be she who yields? My people must decide; I give them back the sovereignty they gave.